


Migraines

by InkstainedGwyn



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7065001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkstainedGwyn/pseuds/InkstainedGwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji suffered from migraines. </p><p>He was sure none of the others knew, and he wanted to keep it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Migraines

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't have time to write a chapter for Thawing a Frozen Heart tonight, but I wanted some SouYo fluff and I suffer from really bad migraines, so... yeah.
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](https://ohlookashinysquirrel.tumblr.com) if you want to poke at me.

Souji suffered from migraines. 

He was sure none of the others knew, and he wanted to keep it that way - after all, if they knew, they’d try coddle him, or call off TV trips when the pain was bad, and they didn’t have time for that. They had to keep going, couldn’t wait on someone who might or might not have a headache five days out of every seven. 

Besides, Yosuke looked up to him, and how could he let that down by showing weakness? He loved his friends, it was true, but his feelings for Yosuke - his second-in-command, his best friend, his _partner_ \- were something beyond all that, even though he knew it was futile, knew there was no way the amber-eyed brunette saw him as anything more than a best friend, _could_ see him as anything more. Even as the word _lovers_ sometimes ghosted through his mind, he knew it was taboo.

It was enough that Yosuke trusted, _needed_ Souji, as friends. As partners.

The fog had always been his greatest nemesis. Not only was it the physical embodiment of their unknown adversary, a reminder of time running out, of things gone _wrong_ , but it worked its way into his brain, dulling his senses, tensing the fine muscles around his eyes, down his neck, drawing his complexion, making him wan and peaked. He couldn’t wear his contacts in the fog, or his actual glasses - they interfered with his TV glasses - and although he could still see _well enough_ , it didn’t help the migraines.

Neither did the stress of having _everything_ on his shoulders, no matter how willing he was to bear the burden.

Neither did his feelings for Yosuke, the one person he wanted so badly he could taste it; it was so _hard_ to conceal his emotions no matter what sort of martyr-esque satisfaction he got from denying himself even daydreams. 

_It’s better this way_ didn’t help his migraines, although it gave him some small, sad, satisfaction.

* * *

When the fog rolled into Inaba full-time, that’s when the migraines hit their peak. It was hard, _so_ hard to keep it from the others, but luckily the fog kept most of them indoors when they weren’t doing Things That Needed to Be Done, so he was able to keep things relatively under wraps. 

Or so he thought. 

He’d made it through yet another day of school, eyes blearily focused on the page in front of him, grateful that the fog was at least not inside (yet); Yosuke was busy, having been called away by someone somewhere (Souji hurt too much to focus on that point). The girls were busy, and this gave the silver-haired boy the chance to get home without being noticed, getting sick, or getting into trouble. Nanako was at a friend’s, so he staggered into his room, draped the spare blanket over his blinds - something he’d become very adept at doing in the dark - swallowed a couple of aspirin, and fell onto his futon. 

In general, if he was lucky, sleep would buy him at least two or three hours of semi-comfort in the morning. Maybe he’d get up to have dinner, if he could get past the nausea; if he didn’t, Nanako was good about leaving him alone, assuming he’d already eaten.

* * *

The dreams were at it again. Even asleep, he knew they were dreams - nightmares about the shadows, or stress in the TV world, or the fog devouring everything he knew, including Nanako and Yosuke - and while they didn’t terrify him awake, they kept him from resting, wrung him out even further. He’d just rolled over - moving out of a dream of failing classes into one of his teammates turning into shadows - when something cool touched his forehead. He didn’t wake, but some of the lines around his eyes relaxed. 

The cooling sensation continued, and when Souji found himself moving - not of his own accord, but by a pair of gentle hands - onto his back, resting on something soft, with a soothing, repetitive coolness on his forehead, it was finally enough to wake him up. His eyes fluttered open, but in the darkness, all he could see was the outline of a person. His room was always quiet - the one boon - and he could hear the quiet breathing that told him he wasn’t alone.

It was familiar breathing, just as the softness beneath his head smelled familiar. There was another scent wafting around - lavender, he thought, and maybe chamomile - but the pillow beneath his head smelled like trust, friendship, and longing; he tensed. 

“Yosuke?”

His voice was rough, like the creaking of a door, and the cold fingers smoothing his forehead paused.

“You should be sleeping.” Yosuke’s voice was low; after a moment, Souji felt his shoulders shift, and cool fingers found the back of his neck and started to dig into the horribly-knotted mass that kept his body tense and bowstring-taut. 

It hurt, _god_ it hurt, and he couldn’t help but groan, but at the same time that white light blossomed behind his eyelids he felt the muscles give, relax a little, and it was such a relief that he fell back into sleep without even getting a chance to ask what was going on.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how late he slept; there were no nightmares, and the cold touches on his forehead never stopped. Waking amidst an odd feeling of _comfort_ \- his migraine actually gone for the meantime, even though he knew it was never _really_ gone and would be back at some point - he rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, though he failed because of an arm draped across his chest.

“Woah, partner. Don’t rush it. How are you feeling?” The tone - besides serving as a familiar comfort that Yosuke was there, and _hadn’t_ left - was hesitant, and Souji shook his head. 

“Better?” Squinting, he tried to look at Yosuke, but it was still dark.

Yosuke must have sensed this. “Can I turn on the desk lamp? It’s facing away from you, so it shouldn’t make it worse.”

“Okay.”

Once the light was on, he found himself blinking at Yosuke, and - as he’d suspected - found that he’d been sleeping on a soft, folded pullover that Yosuke wore outside of school, draped across Yosuke's lap. “What’s-”

He stopped when he saw Yosuke’s face, which was worried and almost as haggard as his own. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Souji flushed, looking away. “It wasn’t important-”

“Bullshit.” Yosuke was keeping his voice low, but the feeling behind the word was unmistakable. “Souji, I’m your partner, aren’t I? Your second? How could you not tell me? You’d chew any one of us out if we tried to handle something like this on our own, tried to fight like this.”

“I’m not fighting…” Souji mumbled, his face still red.

“But you _will_ be, and you _have_ been. And if you try to tell me this is a one-time thing, I’ll say it again: bullshit.” His voice was still quiet, the cool cloth and fingers were still stroking his forehead.

“I-” Yosuke was right; Souji knew this. Knew it’d just been his pride, his need to feel important about _something_ , that had pushed him to keep up the charade. Swallowing, he looked up. “But how did you know?”

The expression on Yosuke’s face softened; if Souji didn’t know better, he’d think the brunette was blushing. 

“How could I not see it, with how much I watch you?” The voice was so soft that if the room hadn’t been silent, Souji might not have heard him; as it was, the silver-haired boy blinked in disbelief.

 _No- it can't be-_

Suddenly, warm, dry lips were brushing his own, and the cool fingers slipped down his jaw and around his neck, cradling his head, and Souji felt light-headed and confused and happy and _of course_ he returned the kiss, he’d been dreaming about kissing Yosuke for months, and this was probably a dream, but for the first time in weeks he didn’t hurt, and-

A small smile as they broke away, and Yosuke put his forehead to Souji’s. “I wish you’d said something earlier.”

“I’m sorry, I-” Souji licked his lips, still tasting Yosuke on them. “I know I made a mistake, it was dangerous, and if I feel bad again I’ll tell you-”

“Not that.” Fingertips brushed his forehead again, and the smell of lavender was stronger, now. “ _This_.” Another kiss.

“O-o-oh.” Souji’s voice was shaky after they pulled away again. “Because I didn’t want to ruin things?”

“Instead you thought you should ruin yourself? Stupid, stupid!” For the first time that afternoon, Yosuke almost raised his voice. “Do you know how much I worry about you?”

“No.” Souji’s voice was small, but it was clear he was also happy.

Yosuke bumped his forehead gently against Souji's. "I do. Somebody's got to, you spend all your time worrying about _us_."

Looking away shyly to hide his embarrassment, Souji's gaze fell onto the stuff sitting near Yosuke's knee. “Where did you get all of this?” He gestured to the vial of lavender oil sitting nearby. 

It was Yosuke’s turn to flush. “I did some reading online when I realized _why_ you were avoiding me so much. This was a lot easier to deal with than figuring out how to handle you being with Rise, or whoever I thought you might be off with.” 

“I see.” The thought that Yosuke had done all this especially for him made him feel ridiculously happy. “It worked, though?” Sitting up, he winced. “My neck is kinda sore, but… my head feels better than it has in weeks…”

“Good, I missed you.” Gently running a thumb along Souji’s jaw, Yosuke leaned over. “Just promise me that you won’t force yourself to deal with this sort of thing alone again, no matter what’s involved, okay?” He kissed Souji again.

“Mmmf.” Souji’s answer was muffled, but it sounded like an “of course, partner.”


End file.
